


Negan

by rafalicious



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cheating, Child Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I just love Negan, LOTS of violence, Negan (Walking Dead) is an automatic warning, Non-Linear Narrative, There is no smut but there is gonna be implied sexual content in later chapters, This is just lots of memories from Negan's past, Violence, Violent Thoughts, and I can't reconcile those facts, but he sucks, kinda ??, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rafalicious/pseuds/rafalicious
Summary: Negan's life aka extreme acts of violence with interludes of unprecedented kindness





	Negan

“God fucking dammit.” 

Negan heard his father’s words before he heard the door slam. 

“Where are you, you dumbass?” echoed through the house. 

_No._

He hugged his legs tighter against his chest. _No._

He just needed to stay where he was. He just needed to stay hidden in the kitchen cupboard forever, and he would get out of this one. 

There were noises. Heavy boots echoing on the wooden floor as they moved through the kitchen. Loud grunts as his father walked into the living room, “What are you so scared about, Negan?”

Negan's stomach twisted. It was an accident. He was just going to put down the bike for a second. It was an accident, but his father wouldn't believe him. _No._

The words muffled and far away, “If you didn't do anything wrong, I'm not gonna do shit to you.” 

The walls of the cupboard were too close for him to be able to move. The way air through his lungs too loud for him to be breath. _Stay still_. 

There was a series of swear words that he wasn't allowed to repeat. His name out loud. 

Negan felt like he was going to throw up.

His father was grunting. Unintelligible things. _My truck_ and _fuck_ and _stupid bike_. 

_No._

“Come on, Negan, you little piece of shit.” 

He felt sick, 

“Where the fuck are you?”.  


He felt dizzy 

“You think I don’t know you are around here, hun?” The voice was coming closer. “You think I didn't see that stupid bike of yours up front?" 

Negan could feel his body work against him. Air forced itself out of his lungs despite his best attempts to keep it quiet. His muscles burned and ached, unmoving, despite how much he wished they would just stand still for a little longer. 

"You think I didn't see the scratch it made on my goddamn truck, you shithead?” 

The hardwood floor creaked right in front of the cupboard door.

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. _No. No._

“For every goddamn fucking second you don't show up, I'm gonna hit you harder, alright?”  

His heart skipped a beat. He could just live in the cupboard, forever.

"1... 2..."

He could wait until his father fell asleep to get food everyday. 

"3... 4..."

He could just never move again. 

"5... Negan, I don't fucking like to repeat myself." 

Blurriness threatened the corner of his eyes. Negan held both hands against his nose. Air. God. There was no air. 

The fridge door opened. Beer bottles _tink-ed_ against one another. 

Something crashed. 

“ _Shit!_ ”  

Negan exahaled. 

Silence roomed the kitchen for a thick second. 

No. It was just a little air, It was just enough to let out a low hush. 

Beer started to pool on the kitchen floor. 

He didn't hear it. Couldn't have heard it. It was so small. It was barely a sound. 

There was set of slow steps moving. 

_No. Please, no._

Negan squeezed his eyes shut. 

_No. No. No._

The door of the cupboard opened and he was yanked out of it by the collar of his shirt.


End file.
